


All he really wants

by ShippenStand



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippenStand/pseuds/ShippenStand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows what he wants. He can't have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All he really wants

All he really wants is a cock down his throat, and that near choking feeling, the smell of of a stranger's balls sweaty from dancing, the sound of the music blotting out everything, high enough, drunk enough, and nothing in the world that matters.

He hasn't had that in a long time. It's not even an image he can use to jack off, because if he were back on Earth, there's no way he would walk into that kind of club now. He used to sneer at the who were men twice his age pretending to be younger, hiding the hairlines and not smiling so the crows' feet wouldn't show. He is that older man now. Sure, his hair is all his own, and he'd like to think the lines add a ruggedness to the beauty of his youth, but he would feel ridiculous with some young stud acting like he's doing a favor by letting an old guy suck his cock.

He loves battle now like he loved the clubs, because it is just as consuming, like the club scene was the kindergarten for sensation and in-the-moment intensity. When he was just one of the guys there was a place for relief, furtive and quick, and if Sheppard wanted to use his mouth instead of his hand, no one complained. And then it became more than pure sensation. It was was good and alive and he swallowed down the bitterness of war and made it part of him.

He doesn't have that any more, not out here. He's in command, and he has to stay in command of himself. He has no way to take the edge off, lose the jitters, make the damn hamster wheels in his head just shut the fuck down. He's even visualized killing furry rodents and throwing the wheels off the balcony, but all he has to do is shut his eyes when he's not exhausted enough, and there they come back again, around and around and around.

He can't have what he wants. He doesn't know what he wants.


End file.
